Saying Goodbye
by MirrorFade
Summary: It should be storming, a gale, a blizzard, something dramatic to mark her egress from my life. But there is nothing. No snow, no wind, no storm to mark her passage. Just a cold, austere beginning of what will become an even colder day. OrochimaruOC


**I don't own Naruto, but Genesade is my own creation. Oh, the viewpoint switches, the name at the top indicates who's POV it is. Read now! And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review! Gives puppy dog eyes**

**Saying Goodbye **

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Orochimaru 

It is cold here, my breath forming steam as I exhale. There is no snow, but it seems like there should be. It's a dawn like that, bleak and cold enough to make a tombstone shiver. It should be storming, a gale, a blizzard, something dramatic to mark her egress from my life. But there is nothing. No snow, no wind, no storm to mark her passage. Just a cold, austere beginning of what will become an even colder day.

Neither of us said goodbye. We just stood, me leaning against this tree, her standing before me, violet eyes hardened, just as they were when I first met her. She touched the pale bone bead earrings I had placed in her ears several hours before, the only gift I could think of that would be worthy of her. It seemed fitting then and it seemed fitting now, the avenger wearing charms made from the death of another.

She fingered them, and then she turned and left, with nothing to mark her passage but the somber start of a cold winter day.

I stood at the tree for several hours, wondering if she was nothing more than a dream, the kind you're not sure is a nightmare or something beautiful or a combination of both.

Few over the course of her life have uttered her name but when they have dared it has been in reverence, in fear, and in hatred. I was the first to utter it in love. The first, and, in all likelihood, the last.

The word Genesade means "born in blood", in some nameless language no one utters anymore. It is a good name for one such as her. It makes her strong, gives her the audacity to stand and fight when she could just lay down and die.

But she will die this time. I could see it in the way she gripped the pommel of her slender sword, the one she called cursed. She will fight and she will finish what she set out to do five long years ago. She will end it.

I sigh, bowing my head, wishing I were strong enough to stop her. I am not. I let her go to what will ultimately be her death.

I will miss her and I will mourn her silently when she dies, but I have not the heart to break her by stopping her.

A draft of wind rustles through the forest, causing my raven hair to dance about my skull and my own earrings to click. I smile to myself, knowing that it does not meet my eyes. _So there will be something to mark her passage. _

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Genesade 

I walk through this silent forest, my face hidden deep within the shadow of my molten gray parka. It is the time between day and night, when the darkness begins to turn to gray and then eventually to light. Some call it dawn. Some call it daybreak. I don't call it anything.

They say its darkest right before dawn. What they don't say is that the darkness only fades halfway. It leaves shadows, many little churning pieces of impenetrable darkness that shift and squirm at my passage. Some avoid shadows at this time, the time after the greatest darkness, out of the fear of what skulks in the shadows you can't see. I don't. A part of me even wishes there was something hiding in those shadows, something I could fight and destroy or die trying. Sometimes there is, but not today.

I stop by an immense cherry tree, the ancient, weathered trunk reaching into the sky, thin branches extending up and out, reaching for something, something that cannot be grasped. Perhaps the memory of spring and the sweet smelling pink and red blossoms it would bring.

I have few memories of spring. All that comes up when I try to recall it is a reminiscence of a smiling little girl with ebony and sapphire hair not unlike my own, dressed in a soft blue and white kimono, a grin on her face and a twinkle in her eyes the color of jade. I sigh, closing my eyes tiredly. I wish I could forget my little sister completely and not be haunted by these memories of a past I'd rather never was.

I lean against the thick trunk of the old cherry tree, feeling its' age-old wisdom coursing through its' rough bark, wishing I was wise enough to know how to forgive and forget. I can't, I can't even try.

I open my eyes as a gust of wind causes the old tree to vibrate. The movement causes the bone earrings to click, drawing my attention to them again.

I reach up a hand to caress one, loving the feel of bone polished until it shone like a mirror. The earrings were beautiful, the first gift I had received in a long time. Orochimaru had given them a lot of thought. Part of me wishes he hadn't. It makes it harder, what I'm about to do.

I love him, I realized that soon after we met, and he loves me, in his way. But a love like ours was never meant to exist. He is a missing-nin with aspirations of greatness. I am an avenger, who lives only to avenge the memory of my dead friends, my only friends.

I leave to fight this last time, and I leave to die. If not in battle, then by my own hand. I know this, I embrace it openly. It is the fate I choose, five years ago, when I became an avenger.

He knows this as well, and knows that it would be to break me to try to stop me from doing what I must. He respects my wishes, but I can see that it hurts him greatly to let me go. He has no delusions of my returning to him.

It hurts me as well, but I have little choice. I am dead, breathing only until I have finished what I had sworn in blood to do, five long years ago. I sold my soul for power, and for pain. I have both now, but neither will last much longer.

We didn't say goodbye.

I let my hand drop to my side, and I start walking again, face bowed down. I wonder if he is still standing at that tree, watching the forest, wondering if I will turn back and return to him. A part of me wishes I could.

I smile darkly at my own foolishness and continue down the worn dirt path, shadows lurking at the edges of my vision, a reminder of what fear can do to people. I'm not afraid.

**AN-It's a little confusing, I know, but I like it. Please review!**


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